


Just the Three

by SailorChibi



Series: Little Q verse [3]
Category: James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: Angst and Fluff, Communication, Cuddling, Daddy!James, Diapers, Dummies, Happy Ending, Hugs, Little Headspace, M/M, No Breakups, Pacifiers, People actually talking to each other, Self-Esteem Issues, Some angst, angst and fluff and a happy ending, little!Q, nappies, non sexual age play, non sexual infantilism, q likes alec in spite of himself, q thinks james is going to leave him, uncle!alec
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-27
Updated: 2018-08-30
Packaged: 2019-06-17 09:19:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15458166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SailorChibi/pseuds/SailorChibi
Summary: Q wasn't opposed to having Alec around, but hewasdeathly afraid that Alec's presence might make James long for his womanizing days.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Anther commission for James Bond and age play! I love it.

When Q and Bond went out on their first date – which wasn’t actually much of a date, for the record, more of three hour wait in a grimy train station with piss-poor cold coffee – word got around MI6 extremely fast. It hadn’t taken Q long to realize, in his capacity as Quartermaster, that no one could gossip like secret agents could, yet he was still taken by surprise when he walked into MI6 and was immediately set upon by Moneypenny. She literally dragged him out the door and bundled him back to her flat.

What followed was a very long night of cocktails and sordid tales. If M was the sun of MI6, the source around which the agency revolved, then Moneypenny was like the proverbial black hole that circled said sun. Nothing got past her. She absorbed _everything_ , but it was rare that any information came back out. So Q was surprised when, after a couple of drinks, Moneypenny began to tell stories.

And all of those stories, Q noticed quickly, had a common theme.

Even before he’d become a 00-agent, James Bond had developed something of a reputation at MI6 as a ladies man – and that was putting aside the honeypot missions. He’d slept with several other agents, but a relationship was never part of the deal. A fair few hearts had been broken before people caught on. The only long-term relationship Bond sustained was Alec Trevelyan, though, as far as Moneypenny knew, that had never been sexual.

Everyone knew about Vesper Lynn, and of course there was Madeline Swann as well. Then there was Q. Moneypenny had taken Q’s hands into hers and, with all due seriousness, expressed her concern that Q might be getting in over his head. Q had smiled and squeezed her hands and told her that he appreciated the warning, but that he was well prepared for whatever happened.

Now, looking at Alec and James as they bustled around, Q thought he might have been wrong. People had told him what it was like to see 006 and 007 together, but Q knew now that he hadn’t really understood. There was an innate familiarity there that he hadn’t thought James was capable of. To look at them right now, you wouldn’t think it had been years since they’d been together. They knew each other too well for that, and moved around each other like a well-coordinated set of cogs.

And that was alarming, though not for the reasons that people would think. Q had made peace with the inevitable: 006 was, at some point, going to find out about the age play. He and James were too close for that _not_ to happen. Granted, he hadn’t expected it to happen so soon – but when you worked for an intelligence agency that housed some of the best spies in the world, you had to learn to take unwelcome surprises in stride. 

No, what alarmed Q was the thought that he might have been nothing more than a distraction while Alec was away. As the old saying went, variety was the spice of life. James had tried something new, and he seemed to enjoy it. It had held his interest for longer than Q, or anyone else at MI6, had expected. Now that Alec was back, he couldn’t stop worrying that James might want to return to his old lifestyle. MI6 had experienced an influx of new agents in the last year, and that meant there was loads of new blood for any enterprising 00-agent on the prowl. So it wasn’t even like James would have to go far to find multiple people willing to jump into bed with him. 

He closed his eyes and rubbed his face, trying to do away with those thoughts altogether. It wasn’t fair to either one of them, and he knew that James was not the kind of man to cheat on his partner. No, James would have a very calm, almost clinical conversation, because they would still have to be professional. It wouldn’t do for a 00-agent and the Quartermaster to be unable to work together.

“Jamsey, the kiddo’s looking pretty unhappy.”

That was the only warning Q before he was unceremoniously plucked off the floor. He let out an undignified yowl of surprise and heard familiar laughter; James brought him in close for a hug, muscles not straining in the least. Q pouted and tried to refuse the hug, but James was nothing if not persistent and started pressing kisses all over his face. His stubble tickled and, in spite of himelf, Q giggled.

“Da, no!” he whined, pushing James’s face away. 

Alec let out another bark of laughter. “Seems you’re not the favorite today.”

“I’m never the favorite,” James said with mock seriousness, winking at Q. “Story of my life.”

“I bet to differ. I can think of several times that you got away with literally murder because you were the old M’s favorite,” said Alec. 

“No talking about murder in front of the baby,” James said automatically, giving Alec a light swat to the back of his head. He carried Q through the remains of the house. It was a familiar sight by now, given that they’d been there for two weeks, but it was still a little surprising to see just how gutted the place really was. James planned to have it torn down and was talking about having another home built.

It would be a shame, Q privately thought, to let a home sit empty in such a beautiful place, and he wondered if maybe James was thinking about it as a retirement spot. Of course, that would mean James Bond would have to actually retire. That hadn’t gone so well last time. It wasn’t uncommon for agents to have a difficult time settling down. Most of them were such adrenaline junkies.

But it was a little easier to see that happening on a day like today, when James was laughing and trading light-hearted remarks with Alec as the three of them exited the house. The sun was warm but the air was cool, and the view was stunning. Q’s half-lidded eyes scanned the Scotland moors as he rested his head on James’s shoulder and tucked his thumb into his mouth. Everything was so wide open. No wonder James was so at ease here. It would be hard for anyone to sneak up on them, and even if someone did they’d be at a severe disadvantage: James probably knew these moors like the back of his hand.

And Alec had definitely been here before, based on how comfortable he was with the remains of the house. It made sense: based on what Q knew of 006, he had no living family and no real home. James _was_ his home, corny as it sounded. It was a pity that Alec had been deep undercover when everything was happening with Silva, Q reflected, or things wouldn’t have ended so poorly.

Even Q was more comfortable here than he’d expected, honestly. The country never did much for him. Being away from technology usually made him feel awkward and out of place. But here… he’d been in his headspace for much of the trip, but that hadn’t stopped him from noticing that there was ample space to be converted into a workshop or an office or both. Underground lines could be run for power, and he was pretty sure he could rig something up so that wireless wouldn’t be too much of an issue.

That was a pipe dream, though, and Q knew it. He closed his eyes and pressed his face into the curve of James’s shoulder, listening to the quiet rumble of James’s voice. He let them think that he was asleep, keepiing his eyes shut and his body loose even when he was placed in the backseat of the car. James strapped him in and then the door shut. He got into the driver’s seat, with Alec at his side, and started the car.

They were going back. Back to London. Q could feel the familiar burning sensation behind his eyes that meant tears were going to be happening shortly, but he forced them back. They’d be taking the train back to London. By the time they got home, he needed to be at peace with this. These two weeks had been blissful, showing him a hint of just how good life could be, and now that was going to be torn away.

It would be much easier if he could hate Alec Trevelyan for ruining it, but damn it all: Q actually _liked_ that man. Alec smiled and joked around a lot more than James did. He had a unique way of putting people at ease, and that included James. But he was far from stupid. His dark eyes took in everything, constantly assessing the situation and the people within, tweaking his personality so as to better suit the people he was with. It had to be exhausting, but it was a good quality for a 00-agent to have. It also made Q wonder if he’d seen the real Alec, or if that person only emerged when he was alone.

He was dwelling so hard on James and Alec and the situation when they returned to London that Q fell asleep, head bouncing gently against the glass. He only woke up when they reached the cabin that James had rented for the weekend, and he was left feeling tired and cranky from his impromptu nap. He swatted at James’s hand when James opened the car door. James blinked at him in surprise and then smiled.

“What’s the matter?” he asked softly. “Come on. You can sleep for a little longer when we get inside.”

“No,” Q mumbled, feeling churlish. 

James just smiled wider, and it was one of those smiles that Q loved so much: honest and unrestrained, like he just couldn’t help himself. Usually those smiles always made Q want to smile back, but right now all he could think about was how likely he was to lose them – because James didn’t like smiling that way at strangers. His eyes welled up with tears and he sniffed.

“Q? What’s wrong?” James’s smile vanished, replaced with a frown of concern. 

“What’s wrong?” Alec echoed, tossing a bag over his shoulder and slamming the boot.

“I’m not sure. Maybe going out there again today was too much. Take this, would you?” James handed the bag in his hand to Alec and then unstrapped the seatbelt, easily hefting Q into his arms. Q wrapped both arms around James’s neck and clung to him, trying not to let cold reality sink in. He couldn’t bear to lose this, but he could feel it slipping through his fingers already and they weren’t even back in London yet.

His headspace always made his emotions more difficult to handle. He’d have to be mindful of that during those first few weeks afterwards. He was determined not to be one of those clingy ex’s that couldn’t move on. And of course, there was always the small chance that he wouldn’t need to worry about it, because maybe James was happy with the way things were and Alec’s reappearance wouldn’t change anything – 

But as James carried him into the cottage, with Alec on their heels, and Q was set upon one of the beds, he realized that he couldn’t let himself believe that. He needed to start pulling away. He needed to start remembering what was it like to be alone, to work countless hours and maintain professional boundaries and self-soothe when it came to his favorite way of relaxing. Not that age play would be his favorite way of relaxing after this: how could he ever go back to doing it alone now that he knew what it was like with James?

“Q, are you okay?” James hovered over him, worried. He could tell that Q wasn’t fully in his headspace, and so wasn’t trying to baby him the way that he normally would if Q were in his headspace. James was so good at that.

“Yes,” Q said, and by some miracle his voice didn’t crack. He sat up slowly, hearing the distant crinkle of his nappy. It was barely noticeable beneath the jeans he was wearing, but James had insisted that he wear one when they were away from the loo. Much as Q preferred not think about it, that insistence had come in handy more than once during their trip. 

“You don’t look okay,” James said. “I can postpone the trip back until tomorrow night.”

“No,” Q said, against everything inside of him screaming ‘YES!’. “I just – I need a shower, that’s all.” He stood unsteadily – how was it that his legs always seemed so weak after an extended period in his little headspace? – and toddled into the loo. He was both sad and relieved to shut the door on the two concerned expressions on the other side.


	2. Chapter 2

The arrival back in London left Q exhausted on a bone-deep level. James dropped him off after Q refused to go home with him and Alec, citing a need to check in on his cats as soon as possible. Mrs. Alire, who lived next door to Q, had agreed to feed and tend to them while Q was at Skyfall. She was a lovely woman who adored the cats, but it was a convenient excuse that James couldn’t argue with.

It was a relief to walk back into his own flat and be away from James’s worried and Alec’s calculating gazes. Q shut the door behind him and was immediately besieged by two loudly crying cats. He knelt, a tiny smile crossing his face, and spent a good twenty minutes cooing to them. By the time they were sufficiently appeased, he realized that he was already feeling a bit calmer.

He straightened up and grabbed his bag, taking them into his bedroom. Since he’d spent so much time in Little space while they were gone, he actually didn’t have much to unpack: his little things were, for the most part, kept over at James’s flat. Q had been subject to surprise visitors before from his family, Moneypenny or other coworkers, whereas no one was stupid enough to want to surprise a double-0. It only occurred to him then, as he was dropping his bags onto his bed, that he would have to get those things back if this went south.

Remembering his earlier resolution to start pulling away, he swallowed hard. “How am I ever going to do this?” he asked Ram, who had followed him into the bedroom. 

Ram purred, which wasn’t much of an answer. Q sighed, sank down onto the bed and pulled the black cat into his arms. He stroked Ram’s fur softly, staring off into space. Going back to how things were before James came into his life wasn’t ideal. Maybe he shouldn’t be making any hasty decisions. Jumping to the conclusion that James was going to end their relationship because of Alec wasn’t a good idea.

But on the other hand, Q didn’t want to be blindsided. He wanted to _know_ if their relationship was going to end so that he could plan accordingly. He could always talk to James, but that didn’t seem like a bright idea either. If James hadn’t considered that having Alec around could change things, then he might get upset and think that Q was jealous of Alec – which wasn’t the case at all. Or worse, the conversation might put ideas into his head.

It seemed like the most logical course of reason was to wait and see what happened while also bolstering himself up just in case their relationship did end. But it wasn’t really the answer that Q wanted, and he realized that he needed more information. He couldn’t calculate the variables without knowing more about the equation. He knew James well enough, or thought that he did. How could he get more information about Alec without asking around? Gossip traveled fast at MI6, and it wouldn’t take long for someone to work out why he was asking.

Then it hit him. Q jumped up, accidentally dumping Ram on the floor. Ram hissed at him, pride clearly offended, and streaked out of the room. Q was too distracted to apologize, instead grabbing his jacket and striding out of the flat. He needed to get to MI6 as quickly as possible. He hurried down the stairs, absently zipping his jacket up, and stepped out into a rainy mess.

“Typical,” Q muttered, realizing he’d forgot his umbrella. He thought about going back for it, but he was already wet. What was the point? He yanked his hood up, tucked his hands into his pockets, and began walking.

It took about thirty minutes to walk from his flat to MI6, which was another reason they stayed at James’s flat more frequently: James only lived about fifteen minutes away, less by car. Q was shivering a little by the time he got there, and fiercely missing the warm sunlight of Scotland. He thought wistfully of that day he, James and Alec had spent out on the sprawling lawns of Skyfall, having a picnic and playing. What he wouldn’t give to be there instead of here.

The guard raised a judgmental eyebrow when Q presented his badge, but shook his head and stepped aside. Q tromped inside and paused to ring out his sopping jacket. Little trickles of water ran down his neck as he walked towards the lift. In the highly polished doors, he caught a glimpse of his reflection and frowned. He looked more like a drowned rat than a Quartermaster.

Fortunately MI6 was relatively quiet for a Thursday afternoon and he was able to slip downstairs to his office unnoticed. Once he was safely behind the closed door, Q removed his jacket and hung it to dry. His jeans and shirt were both soaked too, and his shoes made an unpleasant squelching sound every step he took. He toed them off and set them aside to dry, then shuffled towards his destination: an old filing cabinet that had been shoved into a corner of his office, and then forgot about, after he was promoted.

Q removed the electrical equipment that had been piled on top and then sat, pulling the bottom drawer open. The cabinet squeaked loudly, as if in protest, which Q thought was fair. It hadn’t been opened in well over ten years based on the dates in the files. Towards the end of Boothroyd’s term, he’d developed arthritis in his hands which had made it painful for him to write. That was actually one of the reasons why Q had been hired, to act as Boothroyd’s hands, but that hadn’t extended to Boothroyd’s old habit of handwriting his reports; Q had begun doing them electronically the day he began, but he’d never found the time to backtrack and upload these. So these files, Q knew, would have no electronic counterpart.

But, especially as Boothroyd sometimes treated these files more like journals than reports, they could have some of the information he needed.

He flipped through them slowly, removing any files that were titled with ‘Bond’ or ‘Trevelyan’ (which would have been from before they became double-0’s) or which were titled with 006 and 007. Some of those wouldn’t refer to James or Alec, but to the agents that had held those titles before them. Once he’d pulled all of the ones he wanted, he separated out the ones that talked about their predecessors. He was left with about fifty files, some of which were sizeable. Q picked them up and relocated to his desk.

Boothroyd’s penmanship wasn’t exactly legible, but Q had plenty of experience with reading the old man’s writing. He started with the first, and oldest, file. It was from the late 90’s, which was just about when Alec and James would have joined MI6. Q knew from talking with James that both of them had joined and worked their way up through the ranks to become double-0’s.

 _New agents today,_ Boothroyd had written in his loopy cursive, _seems like a good crop, even if they all look so young. M’s asked me to do an orientation on Q-branch. I mentioned it to R and he was not pleased, but I think it’s a good idea to get agents more familiar with what we do from day one. It would serve us well if we ever end up working more closely with them. I scheduled the day for tomorrow and have notified all of Q-branch to be ready with some displays._

The entry ended there. Q flipped to the next page. He was immediately amused to read about a young man named James Bond who’d caused endless trouble for the whole branch by swiping R’s pen. Apparently James’s fascination with exploding pens had begun early, as his only explanation, according to an equally amused Boothroyd, was that he just wanted to see how the pen worked and if it would explode.

R wouldn’t have taken that lightly, Q knew. That man had been a stodgy, pompous old bastard who hated anything new. He was a good part of the reason that Q-branch hadn’t been dragged into the modern century until Q came along. One of his first actions as Quartermaster had been to quietly suggest R be asked to retire, and then to promote the current R, who was someone Q had worked closely with and who he knew he could trust.

At least this explained why R had always hated James so much. James would’ve reacted to someone like that with teasing that, by the time Q came around, had turned into torment. Then again, the vast majority of MI6 hadn’t liked R. There had been no tears on the day R retired. In fact, Q had stumbled across what he was pretty sure was a celebratory party later that night.

He continued to read and eventually came across a mention of Alec Trevelyan about five years later. Boothroyd wrote about how, within the span of a couple months, everyone had noticed the growing friendship between Agents Bond and Trevelyan. Within a year, the two of them were nigh-on inseparable when they were both in England. It was a relationship that caused concern for some, but not Boothroyd.

_I think they’re good for each other, frankly, and I’ve not been shy about sharing my opinion with M. She has a soft spot for Bond anyway. She never punishes him as much as she does the other agents. Some of them are jealous, but the old girl hasn’t even noticed. Not that she would care anyway. She thinks Bond has the potential to make it as a 00-agent someday, and I don’t disagree. Of course, where Bond goes Trevelyan will follow. I mentioned that to her yesterday and she went very white, as though the thought hadn’t occurred to her. I saw her later having a very strong drink._

Q chuckled to himself at that. Poor M.

James and Alec weren’t mentioned in a lot of the earlier files, which made sense: MI6 had hundreds of agents, most of whom never needed anything more detailed than a gun and their badge. But as James and Alec got better at their jobs and attained more seniority, Boothroyd talked about them more frequently. His fondness for them was obvious; by the time James became a double-0, with Alec following suit less than six months later, they were clearly amongst Boothroyd’s favorites.

It also meant he paid more attention to them, as he did all of the double-0’s. James didn’t have much time for relationships after that, beyond Lynn and Swann – and of course, not long after becoming 006, Alec had been sent off on an undercover mission that ultimately lasted far longer than it should have. And on top of that, Boothroyd’s account was frustratingly vague when it came to personal details. He’d always been someone who didn’t care what an agent did on their own time, so long as they were prompt and respectful on MI6 time.

But still, Q was able to put together a more thorough idea of what they were like before he arrived at MI7. He found himself forming a picture of two young men who were fast, and loyal, friends. The occasional, brief description of a ruckus or gossip over another agent’s broken heart suggested that neither of them had taken relationships seriously, and were more inclined to play the field. By all accounts, the friendship between Alec and James was the longest lasting relationship either of them had had in several years.

It fit with what Q knew of them now, but it wasn’t as helpful as he might have hoped. He did figure out that there was a definite track record which made him uneasy. Both of them had had regular partners, and rarely an empty bed: which was fair, they were young, virile men, and sex was an obvious choice when it came to letting off steam. Agents _still_ ran rampant; Q had been propositioned no less than two hundred times during his first week at work. That wasn’t the alarming part.

Whenever Alec returned home from a mission, James would immediately end whatever relationship he had going on at the time, whether it was someone he was dating or just a casual fling – and vice versa, to the point where even Boothroyd hinted that he thought there might be something more between them. It was like clockwork. Q checked his theory by pulling the old mission records from a random year. Sure enough, every date matched up with Boothroyd’s files.

He closed his eyes against a strong sinking feeling. It had been years since Alec and James were together, he reminded himself. Patterns could be broken in far less time than that. James had never dated any agent as long as he and Q had been dating. It was entirely possible that things would be different this time, and that there would turn out to be room for a Quartermaster between the two double-0’s.

But the more Q learned, the less likely that seemed.


	3. Chapter 3

“You look like shit.”

“Cheers to you too,” Q said without looking away from his computer screen. He would’ve been insulted, but that was just the way that Eve Moneypenny was. To be friendly with her, much less friends, meant taking blunt comments in stride. Personally, Q was of the opinion that Moneypenny had just spent too much time around the old M, though he wasn’t stupid enough to say that.

Moneypenny entered his office, pushing the door shut behind her. “Seriously, Q, what’s going on? I’m starting to get worried. You’ve been holed up in here for over a week even though Bond is in London. You two are usually attached at the hip. Did he do something wrong?”

“No.”

“Did Trevelyan?”

“No.”

“Is it about both of them?”

Q remained quiet at that, feeling his jaw tighten in that tell-tale way that always meant tears when he was in his headspace. A sip of tea helped to dispel the feeling, even though the tea was cold. When he felt he was under better control, he twisted the chair around to look at her. The open concern on her face hurt, if only because Moneypenny was so good at hiding her emotions. She had to be really worried to look like that.

“They haven’t _done_ anything,” Q said, feeling the need to break the silence. He was certain that he wasn’t saying spoke volumes to a trained agent, and sure enough Moneypenny frowned.

“Is that the problem?” she asked, closing the distance between them. She sank into the visitor’s chair Q kept by his desk; unofficially, it belonged to James and other people rarely sat in it. Q vaguely wondered if she’d done that on purpose.

“No,” Q said. Sensing her frustration, he added, “It’s just… I keep wondering if things are going to end. Between James and me.”

He would have felt better if Moneypenny had reacted with surprise, or looked at him like he’d lost his mind. Instead, her face softened with sympathy and she placed a hand on his arm. 

“Oh, Q,” she said gently.

Q swallowed the lump in his throat, hating how kind she was being. “He hasn’t said or done anything. You can’t kick his ass. It’s just… there’s a _pattern_ when the two of them are together. It’s like the rest of the world becomes obsolete. I don’t want to be forgotten.” He flushed at how pitiful his voice sounded, on the cusp of pleading like a child. It wasn’t good for him to be this close to his headspace at work.

But how could he not? His body was conditioned to respond to stress in a specific way. He was an expert at holding everything together until the crisis was over, until he could unwind in privacy either alone or with James. Working at MI6, it was vital that every agent find a way to cope with the stress and demands of their job. Q’s preferred method of coping would have been less accepted than most, so he had no desire for anyone else to ever find out. It had been bad enough that James figured it out.

Unfortunately, he’d spent the last ten days deliberately _not_ age playing because it reminded him too much of the key problem. Between playing catch-up after his vacation, new problems arising and the constant dwelling he’d been doing through sleepless nights, his brain was thoroughly exhausted and in desperate need of a reprieve. He needed to… he needed to go somewhere and _not think_. If he were a man who favored alcohol, he would’ve bought himself a bottle of whiskey days ago. But he wasn’t, and there was only one thing (one person) that he really wanted right now. He just didn’t know if he should allow himself to have it when it might be taken away forever shortly.

Was the fact that James hadn’t been coming around Q-branch much this week a sign they were breaking up? Or was it just a sign that James had noticed that Q needed space, as they both did sometimes, and was trying to be respectful of that? Q didn’t know and the _not knowing_ was agony, but the only thing worse would be confirmation of the former.

“I could still kick his ass just for upsetting you,” Moneypenny said, but there was no real threat to her words and they both knew it. 

“Don’t,” Q said, shaking his head. “It’s not – it’s not his fault. Alec is like his brother. I don’t want to come between them.” He realized as he spoke that it was the truth. If James had to choose between them for whatever reason, Alec was the better choice. Their friendship had spanned literal decades.

“There’s no reason you have to. I know I warned you before, but… what you and Bond have is _real_. He loves you so much. More than he ever did the other people he dumped.”

“Two weeks ago, you told me you could never tell what Bond was thinking,” Q pointed out. He appreciated her attempt at making him feel better, but it wasn’t working.

“I don’t have to tell what he’s thinking. It’s evident whenever you’re in the same room,” she replied. 

“So you don’t think he’s going to break up with me?”

Moneypenny hesitated, and that was all the answer Q needed. Seeing his face, she hurriedly said, “Q, I – I don’t know. That’s not a question I can answer. I just didn’t want you to get your heart broken, that’s all. Maybe things will be different. Maybe they won’t. You need to talk to Bond.”

“I don’t want to,” Q mumbled, even though he knew she was right. James was the only person who could give him the answers he needed. He pushed his glasses up and rubbed at his eyes with his index finger and thumb, trying to erase the familiar itch of tears, hoping that she would think he was easing eyestrain. If Moneypenny saw him cry, then she really would shoot James – and this time she would make it count.

Her fingers flexed on his arm and Moneypenny straightened up. “Go home. I’m telling M not to sign off on any more overtime for you this week.”

“I just got back from vacation!” Q fixed his glasses and gave her a look, though he knew it wouldn’t have much of an effect. Sure enough, Moneypenny just smiled at him.

“It’s not vacation; you’re taking the time that we owe to you instead of having it paid out,” she said. “It’s Saturday morning. Early Saturday morning. Go home and don’t come back until at least Wednesday.” Her eyes flicked to the clock on Q’s laptop as she spoke. He followed her gaze and saw with wonder that it was just after 2am. When had that happened?

“003 is in Tokyo –” he began.

She cut him off. “And 009 is in Canada, and 001 is in Dublin. I know. R knows. We’ll call you if any emergencies arise. But honestly, Q, you’re in no shape to handle them right now even if they did. You’re exhausted and probably haven’t eaten in hours. Not exactly a role model for stamina or quick reflexes.” Her voice was firm, like she expected to be agreed with, and Q found himself responding to that before he could stop himself.

“Alright, fine. You win.”

Moneypenny actually blinked, as though surprised by his acquiescence, but didn’t hesitate to capitalize on it before Q could change his mind. “Excellent. Come on, then.” 

She stood and ushered him to his feet as well, not even giving him time to properly close out of his programs. Q swatted her away and sat again to do what was necessary, filing some things away for later perusal and forwarding other things on to R or other Q-branch employees who could handle them. He checked on the status of 001, 003 and 009, saw that they were safe, and finally shut his systems down. 

Moneypenny walked him down, probably because she was afraid that if she didn’t he wouldn’t leave, and saw him out. It was cool out, but the night was surprisingly clear. Under any other circumstance, Q would have enjoyed the walk. As it was, his fatigue deepened as he got to his flat. Climbing the stairs was difficult, since his feet felt like they’d turned to lead when he wasn’t looking.

He opened the door of his flat, dreamily thinking of a hot bath with some tea and biscuits and then bed, and stepped inside. His first clue that something was amiss was when his cats didn’t come running; Q was tired enough that he didn’t catch on immediately. He’d slipped his jacket off and was turning to hang it up in the closet when a dark shape moved around the sofa, shadows uncurling.

“Bloody hell!” Q yelped, jerking back in fright. Frightened tears filled his eyes as a whimper caught in his throat, and that’s when he felt it: a tell-tale warm wetness dampening his pants and trousers as his bladder released. Caught between embarrassment and fright, he clamped down hard on his bladder and froze.

“Q! It’s only me.” The lamp came on to reveal Alec. He peered across the room at Q and very slowly lifted his hands. “I’m sorry. I thought you’d seen James outside –”

“James? Outside?” Q repeated blankly. His pants felt wet. He hoped desperately that it wasn’t visible from the outside, or he was shortly going to be having a very uncomfortable conversation.

Alec was still looking at him like he thought Q was something fragile that might break. “Yes. He left about twenty minutes ago to get some take away. He should be back soon.”

With the kind of incredible timing usually only afforded to television shows, or, in this case, double-0 agents, the door behind Q opened, jostling him in the back. He stumbled forward a few steps and bit back another humiliated whimper when more urine escaped. He wanted to just sit down on the floor and have a good cry, but – drawing on every ounce of willpower – he repressed the urge and tried to keep his face schooled.

“Q!” James said with surprise, a bag filled to the brim with delicious-smelling cartons clutched in one hand. “You’re home. Sorry I’m late; the guy in front of me had a massive order – Q?” He cut himself off, peering at Q in much the same way Alec had, a worried furrow between his eyebrows. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Q said shortly. “What are you doing here?”

“We need to talk,” James said, still looking both concerned and confused. “Q – ”

Suddenly, it was all too much. Q knew he was going to lose it. “I’m not hungry. And I need to shower first.” He walked, forcing himself not to run, out of the room, keeping his shoulders square. Only once he was out of sight around the corner did he let himself flee, turning not into the loo but into the bedroom, where he closed and locked the door for good measure.

He stood there for a moment with his hands braced against the door, trembling with emotion. This was it. This was it and he didn’t want to hear it. He backed away, breathing noisily, and felt the squish of his pants; frustrated, he shucked both his pants and trousers off, wrinkling his nose at the unmistakable scent of urine. That had _never_ happened before, not even when he was in his headspace, and he had no idea what it had happened now.

He stuffed the soiled clothing beneath his bed to be dealt with later and sat down on the floor, not wanting to soil his bedding as well. He really did need a shower, but the thought of getting up and shuffling across the hall, and risking an encounter with James or Alec, was not at all appealing. So he pulled his legs up to his chest and hid his face, wanting to block the world out for a bit. Perhaps if he were lucky, James and Alec would take a hint for once in their lives and go away.

At least, he reflected bitterly as tears began rolling down his cheeks, he no longer had to pee.


	4. Chapter 4

If he’d thought he was going to get the space to sit and cry in peace, Q was wrong. He hadn’t been curled up for more than five minutes before the bedroom door open and someone came in. He didn’t need to lift his head to know that it was James. Footsteps crossed the floor towards him, and then a jacket that was warm from body heat and which smelled like the cologne James favored was draped around his shoulders. Q shivered, having not realized he was chilled until that moment.

“Want to tell me what’s going on?” James asked. “I’m worried about you, Q. I haven’t seen you this upset in ages. And you’ve been acting funny ever since we came back from vacation.” He sounded genuinely distressed, which only made Q feel worse. It took a lot to make James upset.

He took a deep, shuddering breath and half-sat up, wiping at his face with the palms of his hands. “Are you…” His voice failed him. He swallowed hard and made another attempt. “Are you going to break up with me?”

“ _What_?!” James exclaimed. “No! Where did you get that idea?”

“It’s a pattern,” Q said in a small voice, looking down at the floor. 

“A pattern? Q, explain to me what you mean right now.” James was using his firm daddy voice now, which he was actually pretty good at. It was a voice that Q had quickly grown used to obeying, whether he liked it or not, and so his mouth was opening and words were spilling out before he could stop himself.

“You and Alec, you’re the most important person in each other’s lives. Your relationship always comes first. I get that. It’s understandable; you’re like brothers. I don’t want to come between you, and moreover I don’t think I could. There’s a clear pattern of both of you breaking off other relationships whenever the other came back into the picture. I know you’ve never done with another partner what you do with me, but I don’t see why that would be enough to break the pattern. I’ve been trying to put some distance between us in preparation for that happening but it’s not working and if you’re going to break up with me I’d really like to know sooner rather than later because –”

He ran out of breath at that point and stopped short mid-sentence, gasping a little. He hadn’t realized how much he was holding in until it all came flooding out. A couple more tears ran down his cheeks, but he managed to control the urge to start sobbing again. James was still being quiet beside him, and Q dreaded what was going to come next. He fidgeted, which seemed to wake James up. 

“Your brain is such an amazing thing. But sometimes I think it’s more of a curse than a blessing.”

“What?” Q’s head swung automatically to the side to face the source of his confusion. James met his gaze, a sad smile on his face as he took Q’s hand and gave it a light squeeze.

“Listen to me. Alec is my best friend. You’re right when you say that we’re like brothers. We don’t get a lot of time to spend together because of our jobs, so maybe, in the past, there was no one I cared enough about to try and make things work. I didn’t realize you’d be worried. I suppose Moneypenny’s been spreading stories,” James added, a frown tugging at his mouth.

“She may have said a few things, but she wasn’t the only one,” Q admitted. “A lot of my coworkers in Q-branch warned me off you. They said that double-0 agents like to break hearts, and don’t much care for what they leave behind. I think they’re all shocked we lasted this long.”

James let out a long sigh. “There’s a certain amount of truth to that, but what people fail to understand is that the nature of the job makes it hard to form attachments…” He paused, then shook his head. “No, you know what, we’re a bunch of sodding idiots, and I’m the biggest one of all.”

“James?” Q whispered, hardly daring to hope.

“I am not breaking up with you,” James told him firmly, leaving Q to stare at him in wide eyed wonder. “Unless you want this relationship to end –”

“I don’t!” Q said hastily.

“ – then it’s not going to because of me. You’re one of the best things that ever happened to me. I’m not exaggerating when I say that. Alec can’t give me a reason to want to come home at the end of a mission.” James sounded slightly embarrassed now; he could be romantic enough to make your knees weak, but he wasn’t really one for gushiness. The fact that he was saying this now proved how serious he was about it.

“But Alec,” Q began.

“Alec likes you, Q. Did you know I’ve never even introduced him to any of my previous partners before?”

Q opened his mouth, then paused as he realized that what James was saying was true. The break-up had always happened _before_ James or Alec saw each other after the end of a mission. How had he missed that?

James nodded. “He’d like to get to know you better. He told me himself that he thinks you’re good for me. Alec wouldn’t say that about just anyone, believe me. It’s even harder for him to trust people than it is for me. I really don’t want to have to choose between you.”

“I – you don’t have to! I just thought…” Q frowned, frustrated at himself for jumping to conclusions. It wasn’t the first time that had happened to him. Patterns, which fit so well when he talking about computers and data, didn’t always follow through when it came to humans. James in particular could be more contrary than most, always trying to find a way to surprise people.

“I know. How long have you been worried about this?”

“Since our vacation,” Q whispered.

“Oh, Q.” James scooted closer, pulling him into a big hug. Q leaned into it desperately. It was the first time in weeks that he’d got a hug and didn’t have to spend it thinking about how it might be his last. 

There was just one more thing bothering him. He found he had to say it. “So… you and Alec were never… I mean…”

“Me and Alec?” The incredulity in James’s voice was its own answer, but James still elaborated: “Bloody hell, no. Alec’s not my type at all, and he’s flat out told me that I’m not his. There’s never been anything between us and there never will be.”

It was strictly platonic then. That was a huge relief. Q squeezed his eyes shut, feeling as though a huge weight had been taken off his shoulders. This conversation hadn’t gone the way he’d thought it would, but had turned out much better than he’d expected. He wasn’t losing James, and Alec liked him. That had to be a positive sign for the future. He couldn’t imagine James dating anyone that Alec didn’t like.

“I know my past is very different from most people’s. I hope you can believe me when I say I love you, Q. And I love our relationship and what we do together, both parts of it. I wouldn’t give it up even if someone put a gun to my head,” James murmured, pressing a kiss to the side of Q’s head. 

“I love you too,” Q whispered, but couldn’t resist adding, “You know, for a double-0 agent, saying that you wouldn’t give it up even if someone put a gun to your head doesn’t mean much. Someone puts a gun to your head every day of the weeks.”

James started to laugh and Q smiled a little. It felt good to hear James laugh again, and know that he was the cause of it. He closed his eyes again, giving a contented sigh. Now that all of his gnawing worries had been to rest, he could feel both exhaustion and his headspace creeping up on him. He’d held both at bay for the better part of two weeks now, but unfortunately neither one could be denied forever. Not when he was this worn down. The thought of just drifting off to sleep was irresistible.

Unfortunately, James shook him lightly. “No, you don’t. You need a shower before you fall asleep, baby.”

Q blinked his eyes open at that, a pout already forming. “But I’m tired.”

“I’m sure you are. But you’re also dirty.”

Dirty. Right. Q could feel his face burning at the reminder of his loss of control. That had _never_ happened before, and he could only chalk it up to him having pushed the limit of what his body was capable of. Something had to give, and unfortunately that something had been his bladder. He pulled away as far as he could, wanting nothing more than to hide himself away. 

“Hey,” James said, his voice kind. “It’s okay. You know I would never get mad at you for that. You wear pull-ups when you’re in your headspace for a reason.” He rubbed his hands up and down Q’s arms. “It’s been a really hard few days for you, hasn’t it?”

Q nodded, swallowing hard. He could feel his bottom lip trembling and he bit down on it to make it stopped. James made a quiet sound and put a thumb to his chin, gently tugging his lip free. He smiled at Q and then stood, with the kind of quick, deadly grace that only a double-0 agent was capable of, easily tugging Q to his feet as well. Q stumbled a little, his legs having fallen asleep from sitting in one position too long, but James was right there with a firm arm around his waist, guiding him out of the bedroom and across the hall.

James switched the shower on, turning the water to warm bordering on hot, then helped Q take of the remainder of his clothing. He then stripped off his own, leaving them both naked. They’d never showered together before when Q was like this, much closer to his headspace than not, but James helped him in the shower and then got in beside him, pulling the curtain across.

He washed them both with sure, steady hands, even taking the time to wash Q’s hair. Q leaned into it, loving the feel of those fingers massaging his scalp. He leaned into James as James rinsed his hair, tucking his thumb into his mouth. James rubbed a hand down his back and hugged him with one arm, switching the shower off with the other. When they got out, the cooler air made Q shiver.

But he wasn’t cold for long; in short order, he was in a pull-up and one of James’s shirts and bundled into bed. Before he had time to even wonder, James was crawling into bed beside him and pulling Q very close for a cuddle. All the tension bled out of him, and Q realized suddenly that James probably hadn’t slept well for the past two weeks either. James had told him several times now that he didn’t sleep well without Q around; apparently, having Q in the bed with him was a much-needed reminder that he wasn’t on a mission and, instead, was home and safe.

Q didn’t even remember falling asleep; it felt like he had just shut his eyes for a moment when the mattress sank beside him. He pried one eye open and squinted fuzzily, trying to figure out who was beside him. He wasn’t surprised to see Alec perched on the bed, leaning over him. The low rumble of James’s voice, mixed with Alec’s lower tones, filled the air, though they were talking in a language Q wasn’t familiar with – Russian, he suspected.

Alec realized he was awake first, just by virtue of facing him, and gave him a cautious smile. “Hello, малыш,” he said quietly. “Sleep well?”

Q nodded, belatedly realizing there was a dummy in his mouth. He yawned and it slipped out, falling onto the bed. He thought about asking what time it was, but the light filtering in around the curtains was its own answer. He estimated it was sometime after noon, which meant he’d slept for several hours. He was still tired and sleepy, but not nearly as bad as before.

“You should eat something,” James muttered behind him. He climbed out of the bed, paused just long enough to tuck the sheets around Q, and then left. Alec chuckled.

“He’s been waiting for you to wake up for over an hour. Every time I suggested waking you, he’d punch my leg and tell me not to wake the baby,” he said, grinning, clearly delighted. “I never thought anyone would get James this rattled. I like you, Quartermaster.”

The words caused a slow flush of warmth to go through Q. He smiled sleepily. “I like you too,” he admitted in a tiny, shy voice, nipping at his thumb. “And Daddy’s happier when you’re around.”

“Well, I don’t know about that. He looked pretty darn happy when I got here.” Alec swung his legs up onto the bed and reclined. “I think between the two of us, we could do a pretty decent job of keeping him in line.” He winked at Q conspiratorially. “And maybe keep him from getting too boring on his downtime.”

Q snorted, letting out a small giggle. He didn’t think _anyone_ would ever classify his daddy as boring! “Okay,” he said, rubbing at one of his eyes.

Alec’s smile softened. “Okay,” he agreed. “So you’ll keep me?” And Q heard what he wasn’t asking – was it okay if Alec stuck around? – and he knew that James must have told Alec everything. He’d probably have to get used to that in the future; he was surprised to find already that, although it was a little embarrassing, he didn’t really mind. A light blush colored his face, but he didn’t let himself hide away the way he wanted to. Alec deserved a better answer than that.

So he said “Yes” and dared to grab Alec’s hand. When Alec didn’t pull away, Q smiled to himself. Now he had two double-0 agents to call his own.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on [tumblr](http://tsuki-chibi.tumblr.com/).


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